


and i can feel you slowly (becoming mine)

by keito



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Living Together, M/M, Soft Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keito/pseuds/keito
Summary: “Our bed,” Eichi echoes, sleepy and satisfied, his body stretching out, lithe like a cat. He inhales deeply, then sags against Keito, his sweater soft against Keito’s skin. “I like that.”“I know,” Keito says in return, trusting that Eichi will know what it really means:I like it too. I like it more than I could ever hope to say. There’s nothing I could possibly want more in this life than to lay next to you for as long as we both can manage.There’s no need for so many words now— and they’ve never been Keito’s forte, anyway— so Keito just leans over to set his tea on the bedside table, then takes Eichi’s from his precarious fingers and sets it next to his own. "Do you want to sleep again?"
Relationships: Hasumi Keito/Tenshouin Eichi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	and i can feel you slowly (becoming mine)

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Eichi is sitting up in bed when Keito opens the door, pausing in the frame. Eichi’s hair is mussed, blond strands falling messily over his face, and his eyes aren’t fully open yet, still sticky with the remnants of sleep. There’s a crease from the pillow striking red across his face. Keito thinks he looks beautiful.

“I heard the kettle boil,” Eichi replies, voice even softer than usual, as if any louder noise would shatter the fragility of the morning. “You unpacked it just for me?”

“Don’t be presumptuous,” Keito replies, toeing the door shut softly behind him as he steps inside. He’s not serious, and Eichi knows— he knows that Eichi knows. Knows that Keito would never go through the trouble for himself, only for Eichi. There’s two cups of tea in his hands, warm and steaming, but only one matters; the one in his right hand, passed into Eichi’s chilly fingertips. “I wanted tea as well.”

Eichi hums, his sleeves falling down his wrists as he lifts the cup to his lips, just inhaling, not drinking yet. Keito traces the lines of his veins, blue on pale skin, snaking down the inside of his arms and underneath the edges of his sweater. “Of course,” Eichi remarks breezily. It’s a beginning— Keito knows it. They have a routine. “You went through all the trouble of finding the right box to unpack and brewed my favourite blend just for yourself. How selfish, Keito.”

Keito makes a grunt in return, turning his gaze away from Eichi under the guide of navigating around the boxes still littering the floor of their room, and Eichi laughs, light as air. He watches Keito until he comes to sit on the bed next to him, the spot he had vacated earlier still lukewarm, before sighing and tilting his head to rest on Keito’s shoulder.

Now, Keito can lean down and press his lips to the crown of Eichi’s head, keep them there, slowly breathe him in. Despite all of the unpacking that needed to be done and all of the work ahead of them, having their own place entirely to themselves still had its perks. They had their own bedrooms, technically— he had insisted on a two bedroom unit for propriety— but Keito knew that there would not be a single night where he did not sleep next to Eichi, curled around him like a snake to keep him warm against the chill. 

This was their home. Now, and for as long as time allowed.

When Keito manages to pull away, his tea has stopped steaming. Eichi’s head stays on his shoulder, a warm, comfortable weight. “Did you sleep well last night?” he asks, and Eichi nods slowly. Eichi’s eyes are closed as he sips his tea. He looks so peaceful. Keito wants to hold him so close that Eichi might become a part of him so they will never be separated. He settles for shifting so that one of his arms can wrap gently around Eichi’s shoulders and pulling him closer, Eichi’s head against his chest now.

“I did,” Eichi replies, more breath than words, a sigh. His head tilts so that his nose grazes Keito’s neck, and Keito feels goosebumps rise embarrassingly on his skin at that. His breath tickles Keito’s skin when he speaks. “Did you?”

“Of course,” Keito answers quietly. It’s true. He’d held Eichi in his arms all night, woken up even closer than they had fallen asleep the night before. A perfect fit. “It was nice. I’m glad.”

A huff of air against Keito’s collar, and Eichi is laughing, soft, quiet. “Why do you say it like that?” he jests, and Keito fights back a blush that Eichi can’t see. “We’ve slept in the same bed countless times. This isn’t new.”

“I know that,” Keito grumbles, but there’s nothing behind it. He’s too warm for his words to carry any weight, like melted chocolate. “But it’s different now. This is our bed.”

Eichi’s silent for a moment, and then he’s shifting closer to Keito, his chest pressed against Keito’s t-shirt clad side. “Our bed,” he echoes, sleepy and satisfied, his body stretching out, lithe like a cat. He inhales deeply, then sags against Keito, his sweater soft against Keito’s skin. “I like that.”

“I know,” Keito says in return, trusting that Eichi will know what it really means:  _ I like it too. I like it more than I could ever hope to say. There’s nothing I could possibly want more in this life than to lay next to you for as long as we both can manage. _ There’s no need for so many words now— and they’ve never been Keito’s forte, anyway— so Keito just leans over to set his tea on the bedside table, then takes Eichi’s from his precarious fingers and sets it next to his own. “Do you want to sleep again?”

Eichi nods, so Keito wraps his arms around Eichi carefully, maneuvers them to lay down once again on the bed, Eichi’s back to Keito’s chest. Eichi’s head is pillowed on his arm, and Keito knows he’ll wake up with pins and needles in a couple of hours, but he’s willing to make the sacrifice. His other hand rests on Eichi’s sides, fingers resting on the dips between his ribs through the sweater, until Eichi takes it and pulls it up towards his mouth, his hand loosely around Keito’s wrist as it cages him in.

If Keito opens his eyes, he can see the ridges of Eichi’s spine along the back of his neck, in the small gap between the neckline of his sweater and his hair. He leans forward blindly to kiss them, and Eichi shudders, then relaxes, losing power.

“Sleep well,” Keito murmurs into his skin, and Eichi sighs something out in return, warm breath fanning over Keito’s hand. The soft rise and fall of Eichi’s chest draws Keito into sleep like the tide.

**Author's Note:**

> got so much unwellness because of these boys [rings a very loud bell] gotta abate the demons somehow
> 
> thank you jehan for 1) showing me okay by ceres and 2) sending me that damn keichi drawing that made me write this in one go while in a trance at. [checks watch] 1:43am
> 
> :keichi:


End file.
